Home
by Rowena Zahnrei
Summary: Once defined as a 'place of residence; a social unit formed by a family living together,' do Data's quarters still qualify as a 'home' or is the room merely a 'work' space? A Season Four story looking in to Data's decision to adopt a pet. Complete Story! Reviews welcome! :)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ or any of the fantastic characters therein. Please don't sue me or steal my story. Thanks!

NOTE: I was just walking past this big gift shop window in town and feeling homesick because it was hard celebrating a birthday away from my home and my dog when I was literally seized by this idea, so now I'm writing it out here in the Doc Manager on a bench in the wind and people walking by are looking at me, but I'm busy so I hope they don't expect me to look back. I intend to finish this story today because I just can't fit in a new in-progress story, so it'll be coming in parts as I write them. Let me know if you spot any spelling stuff and I'll fix it right away! Hope you enjoy my story! :)

 **Home**

 **By Rowena  
**

 _A Pet Makes A House A Home._

The rustic-looking wooden sign had been strung over the back of an antique chair in the gift shop's main display window. Data stood in the bustling corridor of the space station and stared at it through the transparent aluminum.

"See something you like?" Geordi asked, retracing his steps to join the android at the window.

The two friends had been on their way to the food court, and Geordi could _feel_ the savory smells of spices and sauces and fresh-baked bread drawing him toward the busy sandwich kiosk at the far end of the hall.

"Curious." It was almost a whisper. Data turned his golden eyes to his friend.

"Geordi," he said, "do you believe that statement to be accurate?"

"What, you mean the sign?"

Geordi ran his VISORed gaze over the kitschy antiques on display: roughly carved statues of birds and other animals; throw pillows with prints of various breeds of dogs and cats; colorful plaques and platters and mugs all festooned with clichéd puns like ' _Life's a Beach'_ and ' _Seven Days Without Chocolate Makes One Weak…_ '

The engineer grimaced.

"That stuff's for tourists, Data," he said. "I don't think it's supposed to _mean_ anything."

Data's eyebrow twitched.

"I see," he said, and lowered his head.

"Data, is something wrong?" Geordi asked. "You've been a little…I don't know…down lately. If it's about that Ishara woman—"

"It is not," the android stated.

Geordi regarded him, but Data didn't return his gaze. Instead, he looked back at the sign.

"Geordi?"

"Yeah, Data?"

"Do you consider your quarters aboard the _Enterprise_ to be your 'home'?"

"Well, sure," he said. "Don't you?"

"I am not certain 'home' would be an adequate description," the android said, his calm voice entirely flat. "My…daughter…once defined 'home' as a 'social unit formed by a family living together.' While that may describe the _Enterprise_ community, in a sense…my quarters are more of a 'work space.'" He seemed to be quoting someone. "'Not much room to live.'"

Geordi frowned. The android had barely spoken of Lal in the year since the system failure that had ended her life. Data had always held that he didn't _feel_ emotions as humans did, that he was _incapable_ of experiencing grief or hurt or loneliness as anything deeper than intellectual concepts. And while that may have been true, at least on some level, there were moments Geordi could swear there was more than just rational analysis going on behind those synthetic yellow eyes…

"Data…what are you getting at?"

"I am…not certain," the android said quietly and turned from the window, his odd hesitancy falling away as he resumed his usual perfect posture. "But, you are hungry, and I have delayed our lunch. Which type of sandwich did you wish me to sample?"

Geordi regarded his friend for a moment longer, but whatever contemplative humor had washed over him had apparently ebbed away. Data seemed bright, even eager, his customary curiosity soothing the engineer's concern.

"It's just over here, Data," he said, picking up the pace as they maneuvered through the lunch-time throng. "The flavor combinations these guys have come up with are so unexpected, and yet they actually _work_! Trust me, your sensors are in for a treat."

 _To Be Continued...not on a windy bench but indoors. Stay Tuned! :)_

 _References include: Legacy; The Offspring; Tin Man; and the various gift shops over here on Market and South Street._


	2. Chapter 2

_Gah! I think I was better off on the awkward bench! There's construction going on outside and the noise and vibrations are driving me nuts. Time for loud, loud music, I think..._

 _Here's the second part!_

* * *

II.

The captain's quarters were dim, except for one warm light positioned over the polished desk. Picard finished re-checking his report to Starfleet on the _Enterprise's_ recent encounter with, and escape from, a community of two-dimensional lifeforms, hit 'submit,' and logged off Starfleet Command's subspace network with a sigh. Rising to his feet, he deposited his empty teacup and saucer in the replicator, then returned to his chair to begin perusing the backlog of forms and requests awaiting captain's approval.

"What's this? 'Lt. Commander Data: Request to Formally Adopt…'?"

The captain leaned back in his chair and frowned at the screen. It seemed Mr. Data had listed Picard as a character reference on an adoption petition. The communique on his screen was a standard follow-up form from the agency.

Picard checked the time. It was nearly half-past midnight aboard ship. Data would be on the bridge right now, overseeing the night shift.

His first impulse was to summon the android, demand to know what this odd, and seemingly sudden, request was all about. But, then he thought again – not about Data's adoption petition, but his own reaction to it. What was the reason for this knee-jerk response? Would he have felt the same about a petition from Riker, or Beverly or…or Worf?

Picard had long felt that he had reacted…somewhat badly…when Data had presented his android offspring, Lal, to the crew. And now here he was, fighting back a similar sense of…alarm? Well, he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Data may have been an android, but he was also a mature, highly responsible individual with every right to adopt a pet if he so chose without the need to explain himself, or his decision, to his commanding officer. Picard filled in the form without delay, wrote out a brief, heartfelt endorsement, and sent the message back to the agency.

"Best of luck, Mr. Data," he muttered through a slight smile, his eyes already moving over the next communique. "If this cat is anything like my grandmother's, you will need it…"

 _To Be Continued...in a few minutes..._

 _References include: The Loss; The Offspring._


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow, thank you, and happy birthday! :) I miss my dog so very much. I think maybe this story's really for him. ;)  
_

 _Here's the third part! One more to go, I think...  
_

* * *

III.

"It's subtle, but it's there," Dr. Crusher insisted as she cleared away the detritus from their recently finished poker game. This week, it had been her turn to play host, and the game had run a little later than usual. "He seems more…I don't know…more relaxed, more confident." She smiled a little. "It could be the cat. Having someone to care for, who can return that affection… Pets really can do wonders."

"They can, but this is _Data_ you're talking about," Troi said, helping the doctor with the folding table. "We both know he's not capable of the emotions you're attributing to him."

"Then, how do you explain his mood tonight?" Crusher asked. "When we play poker, he usually sits there and observes, speaks when spoken to, participates only when and how he thinks it's expected of him. Yet, tonight he _volunteered_ to act as dealer. He _goaded_ Worf into revealing his bluff, and even sampled some of the snacks I'd set out _without_ asking my permission first. Now, I ask you: have you ever known Data to behave so…so comfortably in someone else's quarters? Like a _friend_ who felt he _belonged_ at the table with us, and not just an invited _guest_?"

Troi looked a little hesitant, then shook her head.

"I still think you're overstating things," she said. "Data's an android. He sets routines, builds habits… He doesn't _feel_ friendship the way organic humanoids do."

Crusher quirked her eyebrows.

"I don't know, Deanna," she said. "Data's come a long way these past few years. I think it might be time for a new evaluation."

 _To Be Concluded..._

 _References include: The Schizoid Man; Cause and Effect; Legacy._


	4. Chapter 4

_Last part! It's been crazy, and kind of fun, writing this thing out 'live' in the box like this. Really tired now...stupid construction's giving me a headache and I had to take a little break, but they should be heading off for dinner soon. I hope! :) Thanks so much for reading, and thanks a million for your reviews! Hope you like this last part! :)  
_

* * *

IV.

"Enter!"

Counselor Troi stepped through the sliding doors into Data's quarters…and blinked in surprise at the change. Cat toys littered the floor and furniture and the room _...smelled..._ like the animal who now lived there. She didn't know why this should throw her so off balance, but Data's quarters had never had any sort of smell before. She wondered for a moment how the android had so far managed to keep the cat's smell, and fur, from clinging to his uniform...

Data looked up from his couch, where he had been teasing the orange cat with a peculiar feathered toy attached to a pole and string. When she walked in, he quickly tucked the toy away and shot to his feet. The cat looked slightly peeved.

"Counselor," the android said. "Is there something you wished of me?"

"No, no, Data," she assured him, wishing once again that the android was not such a blank to her empathic senses. "I just stopped by to meet your new arrival. Hope you don't mind."

As she spoke, she moved toward the cat, slowly extending her hand and allowing the wary animal to sniff her fingers. After a moment, the cat deigned to rub its head against her palm on its way to sit possessively on Data's side of the couch.

"On the contrary, I am delighted," Data said, and he did seem to brighten. He reached for the cat and supported the animal gently in his arms, stroking its tawny fur as he presented it to her. For that moment, he looked for all the world like a proud parent, happy for the chance to show off his pride and joy.

"Spot," he said to the cat, waiting patiently until it turned its golden eyes to his. "I would like you to meet Counselor Deanna Troi. Counselor, this is Spot. My cat."

"May I?" Troi asked, reaching for the little animal.

"Of course," Data said and handed it over.

Deanna smiled and cuddled the cat.

"So, 'Spot,'" she said. "That's an unusual name."

"Do you find it...amusing?" Data asked, rather hopefully she thought.

Deanna made a little face, and Data seemed to shrug.

"He is a representative of a very rare breed, known as an Orion Chameleonic Tawny," he told her. "When young, as he is now, he has this long, reddish fur but, as he grows older, his coat will grow shorter and lighter in color. Perhaps the most interesting and unusual aspect of this particular breed, however, is its unique reproductive cycle. Most Chamelionic Tawnys are born male, but as they approach middle age they develop female characteristics. The biology is really quite fascinating, and I look forward to observing the process as Spot matures."

"Your Starfleet specialty, of course, being exobiology," Deanna said a little wryly, handing the cat back to Data.

"And probability mechanics," Data said, her lightly teasing tone entirely lost on him. "Would you care to sit down, Counselor? I can offer you a hot chocolate, or perhaps-"

"Thank you, Data, but no," she said. "I have an appointment to get ready for in twenty minutes. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."

"The thought is much appreciated, Counselor," Data said. "You are welcome to come and visit our home at any time."

Deanna's smile was as spontaneous as it was heartfelt.

"Your home... That's really nice, Data," she said. "Is that how you've come to think of your quarters? As your home?"

"It is now," Data said, and put Spot back down on the couch.

"Data..." Deanna took a breath, a little uncertain quite how to phrase her question.

The android blinked and faced her.

"Yes, Counselor?"

"Data, why did you adopt this cat?" she asked, deciding on the direct approach. "I assume you have no _emotional_ need for the companionship of a pet. So, why take on the added responsibility?"

Data seemed to hesitate. He gazed at Spot while the cat primly fixed his fur then, slowly, turned his eyes back to Troi.

"My...friend... Tam Elbrun," he said. "Before he joined with the entity known as Tin Man, he told me that...that _caring_ for someone...brings purpose to our existence. This is something I know very well to be true. Caring for Lal enriched my life. Her presence imbued these quarters with...an ineffable _vibrancy_...that was no longer present after she was gone."

"Then...adopting Spot has brought back some of that for you, hasn't it," Deanna realized with quiet wonder. "That sense of...of _family..._?"

Data regarded her, his head slightly tilted. Deanna smiled.

"It's all right to use that word," she said. "You _are_ a family, Data. You and Spot."

Data's pensive expression brightened noticeably, and Troi could swear it almost looked as if he were smiling.

"Thank you, Counselor," he said. "I appreciate your understanding."

The look on his face forced her to give in to a sudden impulse, and she gave the android a warm, friendly squeeze.

"Spot couldn't ask for a better parent, or friend," she said, and smiled at his happy, wide-eyed look. It was only as she was turning to go that she realized she was covered in cat fur.

"Ionic roller?" Data offered, handing her the small device.

Deanna laughed and took it, using it to brush the fur from her dress. There was that question answered.

"Thank you, Data," she said.

"You are welcome, Counselor," he assured her, and turned his attention back to Spot. As Deanna walked out the door, the android and the cat resumed their play: two unique lifeforms whose special bond had made Data's work room into a home.

The End!

 _...and, though he's very far away and wouldn't comprehend, this story's for my Brewski-Dog, my true and valued friend. :)_

* * *

 _References include: Data's Day; Genesis; Tin Man; The Offspring; Phantasms; Encounter at Farpoint; Schisms (Data's Ode to Spot); and the movie Generations. I made up the whole thing about Spot being a chameleon-type cat (Orion's a MIB reference BTW). In "Data's Day," when Spot was introduced, he had long reddish fur, which he still had in "In Theory." Later he was shown to have shorter, orangey fur. He remained a male cat through "Phantasms" until "Force of Nature" when he inexplicably became a she and later had kittens in "Genesis." Go figure. ;)  
_

 _What do you think of my story? Let me know! Please review! :)_


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